Write-up by guest MC Callum Mackenzie.
Monday saw a full room at the Star of Kings, and some of G&B’s favourite and most infamous faces coming together to cook up yet another phenomenal night of comedy. Kicking off proceedings was Andrew Fox, who finally gave a name to the long-loved sport of punching avocados. For years we’ve been whacking the fruits, without knowing it’s called: Guac-a-mole. Next up was Max Gill, who went for the throat of a dude who I think we can all agree has gotten too big for his britches in recent years: Batman, before Steve Garry taught us the dangers of dangling bacon rinds near windows. Next, came the always excellent Jim Hooker (pictured), who explained the dangers of taking public transport with small children, before Nathan Ball walked us through the reasons one should never venture to Luton. I don’t think you’ll be surprised to hear, there’s quite a few of them. Up next, was the infinitely more attractive version of Mr Bean, Prakash Mistry, who first ventured into the world of comedy to meet women. Unfortunately, every time he approaches them they say the same thing: ‘don’t make me laugh’. Who needs ‘em Prakash, we love you. Next Tony Carr tackled one of the big, hard hitting questions, plaguing the greatest minds of the modern age: just what, is the deal with dick pics? Before the brilliant Billy Kerr explained that while where he’s from isn’t a shit hole, the Sports Direct is pretty big. Closing the first half was the absolutely phenomenal, Max Norman aka Steve Dickhammer. Wether you want to get in touch with your masculinity or learn the advantages of having a couple of ribs removed, Max/Steve’s deep flexion programme is exactly what you need, for the low low price of 19.99. It certainly has the G&B stamp of approval.
Kicking off the second half was the fabulous Phil Green, who gifted the room with, not just a phenomenal set but the most middle class sentence ever uttered: ‘while I was backpacking through the Bolivian desert’. Next up Mo Gascoigne, the lifeguard whose working from home, garnered the first gasp of the evening, with a sentence that had half the crowd grasping their pearls: f*** Harry Potter world. Next Nathan Good walked us through the pros and cons of dating a psychic sex ghost, before Raj Kukadia taught us a mantra of how to woo a woman in Heathrow airport: ‘Ladies don’t want a Wetherspoons brekkie, they want the lounge’. Luke Harrower came next, a man who clearly doesn’t need cocaine, given how rowdy he gets on little more than a lucozade, before Bertie Lambert wowed the room with his first ever stand up gig. From work tales to the escapees of his mates, it was a magnificently memorable pop of his comedy cherry, and we are excited to have Bertie back in the club posthaste. Next came Harley and his affectionate ode to the lost conspiracy theories, before Mark Rufus, (a man we can assure you, despite those sunglasses, is absolutely not Andrew Tate) talked us through the trials of going bald in your early 20s. Our penultimate act of the night was the brilliant Jim Vanperpump, or as his friends refer to him, the slimmer version of Matt Hancock, who kept the stage well warm for our final, phenomenal headliner of the evening: the irresistible Welsh lilt, lines and legs of Carwyn Blayney. With a set that had everything from a spice warning against Cool Ranch Doritos to the perils of being coughed at at a self-service checkout machine, it’s easy to see why Carwyn is one of G&B’s favourite acts.